Inside the Hourglass
by Miss Manic Dysfunction
Summary: Loss, regret, and anger were commonplace in war, but the army had yet to experience an aftermath like this. FE7, collection of stories involving different characters experiencing the same event. Reviews/Critique loved.
1. Silence

Inside the Hourglass

**Total Story Summary**

Pairings: pairings that are canon for this story are Legault/Isadora/Harken, Hector/Lyn/Kent, Matthew/Leila, Eliwood/Ninian, Lowen/Rebecca, Pent/Louise, and Heath/Priscilla. Any other pairings are implied. The pairings are not the main emphasis of the story.

Rating: Overall, T for mature themes, sexual implications, pregnancy, language, gore, and safety. Some chapters may fall into K+; however, as I'm not entirely sure on the story's overall rating, it's best to go with the highest estimate.

Summary: Loss, regret, and anger were commonplace in war, but the army had yet to experience an aftermath like this. FE7, collection of stories involving different characters experiencing the same event.

A/N: This was originally just a Lucius fic, and you can read the unedited first chapter (Our Army's Saint). However, I was told that the talk about my tactician was a distraction, and suddenly, I decided I could cover the same event with different characters. There was so much going on in the battle and after it, and changing perspective could tell other parts of the story.

Note that the chapters don't really go in a series. They're more like self-contained one-shots surrounding the same event. You do not have to read them all to make sense of them.

I do accept critique. Please, do feel free to make it in-depth, because I will change it. The versions displayed in this story will be current drafts, meaning that I may update them at random. I will track updates on my profile, and upload any old drafts to my LJ. Thank you in advance!

Comments are loved, even if they aren't critiques. I will take requests as well; I may not finish said requests, but I'll take them.

* * *

**Chapter Legend**

1 - Silence ; Lucius-centric, no pairings. Gore warning.  
2 - Pieces of the Heart ; Louise-centric, Pent/Louise and Eliwood/Ninian. Pregnancy warning, sexual implications warning.  
3 - Sunshine and Ants ; Erk-centric, Pent/Louise. No warning.

Other chapters in the works:  
- Legault**  
**

* * *

**Chapter Summary**

Character: Lucius

Pairings: None

Warnings: Gore

Summary: Having been silenced at the time of his dear friend's death, Lucius feels guilty for what has passed.

Chapter notes: Originally a one-shot, but then I decided to expand on the events and flesh out other characters, considering that I enjoy the political nuances an attack on such a city as Ostia could cause, and also because there are other lovely characters to write about. Also, no one role plays Fire Emblem with me, so I have no other outlets for Fire Emblem-related inspiration.

If you read "Our Army's Saint", note that the ending to this one and most of the middle are different. It's more Lucius-centric, and I went with the original ending, with no perspective switch to Legault. I figure Legault will get his own story, and his new dialogue will set up other adventures for several other characters.

* * *

**One**

Silenced

_In this white wave  
I am sinking  
in this silence  
in this white wave  
in this silence  
I believe_

Dawn had come. Lucius doused the fire with the bucket of ash sitting near the hearth. Then, he pulled back the soft cotton sheets on his bed. Ostia's guest rooms were fine (perhaps too fine for his tastes) but Hector insisted that everyone take a good rest. They all needed it, especially since the castle had been invaded the night before.

But despite his exhaustion, Lucius could not bring himself to sleep. He tossed and turned, threw off the blankets, changed his position on the bed, and even tried sleeping on the floor. Finally, frustration got the better of him and he gave up. By then the sun was up. The Knights of Ostia rose with the sun, and no amount of exhaustion would stop the morning training to progress. Lucius stepped to the window to watch.

Any other day would have seen a full courtyard, but today was different. Only thirteen knights stood training—little under half of what the regiment had been before. Lucius didn't know this, nor did he know that, at this point in time, Oswin was looking over the numbers lost and finding that thirteen out of thirty was _fortunate_.

The Knights did not know this either, or they knew and did not care. They practiced with wooden swords, despite bruises and cuts and muscle strains. Lucius, pale hand shaking on the stone sill, watched without a single reaction. How much he had changed over the course of a few hours. A year ago, he would have winced at each practice sword's blow. But now, he felt nothing. After all, a wooden sword was nothing compared to the wounds that a real sword could inflict.

He could only watch for so long. Then he glanced back to the messy bed, decided that it was useless to try to sleep, and tried to force himself to make the bed. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find the heart. Sighing, Lucius left the room without his boots, wearing his tabard without a belt. He idly remembered his days at the monastery—he used to be lashed for messy robes. Well, Bishop Redley couldn't use the paddle here, now could he?

After winding his way through the stone halls of Ostia, he came across Serra. For the first time since meeting her, he hoped she would not speak. But she grabbed his sleeve, and he turned to her with a scowl so uncharacteristic that she removed her hand immediately.

"Lucius," her voice was hesitant, "you shouldn't blame yourself for what happened. It wasn't your fault."

He forced a smile, if only to get her to shut up. "Thank you, Sister Serra." They both knew he didn't mean it, but neither acknowledged it. A long silence followed, mostly filled with Serra trying to find something to say. Finally, she just waved and shuffled off. Lucius watched her go with a touch of envy. Once she was away from him, she would forget what happened. Lucius, though, could not escape it.

* * *

_His blood was the same color as his hair. It oozed from his shoulder, trickled from his skull, dribbled out from between his lips. Never before had Lucius seen so much blood. Yet he could not heal him, nor could he defend him. And Lucius, helpless, tried to shout, to warn him, but as hard as he strained, no sound left his lips._

_The last time Lucius saw him, Raven turned back, his last axe in hand. "Isadora! Take Lucius and go!"_

"_And leave you behind?"_

"_I'll be fine. I just need you to get Lucius to safety for me." Raven smiled; Lucius had seen that smile before. It was the same grin that Kent wore as he had charged Lloyd Reed: the smile that a warrior gets when he's certain he'll be dying. To see it on Raven's face... Lucius couldn't help but root himself to the spot, the look on his face attempting to convey what he could not with words._

_He could not fight the arms around him, nor could he jump from Isadora's steed. He took one last glance over his shoulder. Raven stood, facing a line of archers with an axe in hand, his back to Isadora and Lucius. Lucius tried to open his mouth to speak, but words wouldn't come. Silence. He would have to leave his friend in silence._

_That was the last time Lucius saw Raven alive._

_When his body was recovered from the field, Lucius wasn't even able to react. _

* * *

According to Legault, Priscilla blamed Lucius for what happened. Lucius didn't think ill of her for it; he blamed himself for it, too. It was Isadora's opinion that really made Lucius miserable. She blamed Raven, saying he could have asked for elixirs instead of insisting that Lucius keep them. She also blamed Matthew, who had been there at the start and had vanished part of the way through. If he had only let them know that he was going to get more supplies before darting off, Raven would still be alive.

"Though really," Legault said, adjusting his headband, "they've got it all wrong. No, the real blame goes to Nergal. If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened, and the Fang would still be just the way it should be."

Lucius, as he had been doing throughout the entire conversation, remained silent and just listened to Legault talk. The fact that Legault was willing to talk to him without patronizing him or spewing clichés was a relief. Yet Lucius couldn't bring himself to speak back. Speaking back would mean he would have to listen to himself, and he hated himself right now.

"Or maybe everyone's to blame. Or no one." The assassin shrugged. "Saria's pissed, though. Stay away from her. She'll do the same thing to you as she did to Isadora." Lucius didn't even need to ask, because Legault was used to having one-sided conversations. "She came across Izzy earlier and pitched a fit. Called her an idiot for not staying near the main body of the army, said that she couldn't work if everyone was all spread out... I've never seen her this livid."

"I've never seen her angry," Lucius murmured.

Legault smirked. "Talking to me now, then? And I'm talking about Saria, not Isadora."

"I've never seen Saria angry." Indeed, Lucius couldn't imagine that Saria ever got mad. She got blunt at times, and certainly felt stress, but outright anger?

"I certainly have," Legault said, chuckling. "She's a woman of Bern, Lucius. She's got a temper. All of 'em do." The assassin leaned against the archway, staring out into the courtyard where he and Lucius could be, if the monk would just stand up and move into the nice warm sunlight.

Being a topic other than the night before, Lucius latched onto that sentence. "How do you know Saria's from Bern?"

"Oh, I know everything about everyone." Legault sank to a sit, giving up on the dream of warm, warm sunlight. He glanced at Lucius and noticed the monk was staring at him in awe and perhaps a bit of repulsion. "Really, it's all in the accent," he added quickly. "I don't stalk you, hell no, but you can tell from the way she talks. Listen to me, then listen to Heath and Vaida. You've never noticed?"

The monk shook his head.

"Ah, yes, that would be why you didn't know." Sighing, Legault placed his hands behind him and stretched out his legs. "You can generally tell where people are from by the way they speak. For example, if Lady Lyndis dressed like a normal Lycian woman, and cut her hair in a more Lycian fashion, she'd be able to disguise her Sacaean heritage so long as she didn't open her mouth."

"She doesn't sound the same as Rath or Karel, though."

The assassin shook his head. "All the tribes have different accents. I've never met enough Sacaeans to learn them all, so I couldn't tell you. I also couldn't say that Lady Lyndis is a good enough example of the Lorca accent, as she had a Lycian mother and Lycian nobles generally speak the same way."

"Huh."

There was silence for a few moments. Then Legault groaned and stood up. "It's been great chatting with you, Luce." He dusted off his pants and shirt, then nodded to the monk. "I told Hector that I'd check around the place, see what I find out."

"Isn't that Matthew's job?"

Legault nodded and shrugged at the same time. "He's getting information, yes, but he's out of the keep, or should be at least. Saria's foaming at the mouth. Hector doesn't want her to be provoked any more than necessary. So our best info-hounds are, well, Jaffar and myself. And Hector..."

Lucius nodded, understanding what Legault meant. As Lyn put it, _"Not all people forgive as easily as you do, Lucius."_

With one final two-fingered salute, Legault turned and headed off. And so, Lucius was left on his own, the silence closing in on him.

* * *

Pain. Blood. Death. Gore.

He kept hearing screams of pain from soldiers he couldn't heal, kept feeling the pain of Isadora's armor in his back, kept seeing Raven with his eyes unfocused and mouth agape. Pain surged through him. His breathing became irregular, his muscles began to spasm, and his eyes began to water.

It passed, and left him weaker for it. He was barely able to maintain a sitting position. If it hadn't been for the pillar next to him, he would have collapsed. How long had passed? Ten, twenty minutes? He had to find some sort of distraction before he had another attack, but he couldn't move his legs. Even the cold stone of the pillar against his cheek and arms wasn't registering. His flesh reacted but he could not feel the cold.

Perhaps, if he stayed here long enough, he would wither away into nothing, and then, if Saint Elimine was kind, he would see Raven again. But somewhere, deep inside, he knew that he'd have to get up and move on. His head told him that nothing could change the past. It also told him that Raven had wanted only one thing before he died—to see Lucius safe and sound.

As hard as it was, Lucius would give his friend that final wish. Shaking, Lucius forced his legs to move. Then, slowly, he stood, pushing away from the pillar to stand on his own two feet. The pain brought tears to his eyes, but he refused to let himself collapse. He could do this. Hadn't Matthew been on the field immediately after Leila's death? Hadn't Lyn remained stoic when Kent was dragged off the field? Hadn't Eliwood swore to lead the campaign, even after his father's death? Lucius would not let himself act like the only person to have lost a loved one.

In time, he would mourn. But for now, he would suffer in silence and fight on. Until further notice, there would be no past and no future. There would only be the now. If Lucius could do that... Perhaps, just perhaps he could bear anything.

* * *

It was a hot summer afternoon and Lucius found himself standing out in the fields, searching on end for his parchment. The fourteen-year-old boy could feel the sweat dribble off the back of his neck. Damn, it was so hot! And the fact that Lord Cornwell would be enraged with the poor acolyte should his failure be discovered didn't help either. He had just come in, and to lose an important paper in the hayfield... Lucius could imagine the lash coming down upon his back, painful and sharp.

Then, suddenly, a pair of grubby hands held up a piece of dirt-stained paper. "This what'cha lookin' for?"

Lucius found himself looking down into the face of a redheaded boy, with deep brown eyes and a wide grin on his face. The acolyte blinked, then grabbed the paper and returned the smile, all his nervousness dissipating in moments. "Thank you! I was afraid I'd lost this!"

The boy grinned, then scratched his nose with the side of his head. "I just saw it over there," he pointed off into the fields.

"Thank you again!" And then Lucius turned to be off. The boy, however, didn't leave; instead, he jogged to keep up, striding at Lucius's side and grinning.

"So, you're the new monk here, right?" Lucius nodded, then the boy wrinkled his nose. "You're awful pretty to be a guy, you know that?"

Lucius flushed. "I-I'm a boy, I assure you."

The redhead laughed. "I believe you. They wouldn't let a _girl_ be a monk!" Then he glanced up at Lucius. "What's your name, monk?"

"Lucius," replied the monk.

There was a brief pause, then a wide grin. "I'm Raymond, and I'll tell you all about Cornwell. It's a great place, and there are plenty of places to hide!"

At first, hesitation. Then, a smile that was just as sincere as the one on the face of the eight-year-old boy. "I'll look forward to that, Raymond."

The days that followed that were among the happiest days of Lucius's life. Little did he know that Raymond thought the same thing; even if Lucius added a "Lord" to his name after that first encounter, Lucius wasn't afraid to play with him like the other kids in Cornwell were. For the first time in a while for Raymond, and for the first time in his life for Lucius, each had a friend to call his own.

_Happiness cannot last forever, but it can always be remembered..._


	2. Pieces of the Heart

Inside the Hourglass

**Chapter Summary**

Character: Louise

Current Edition: 2

Pairings: Pent/Louise

Warnings: Sexual themes, pregnancy

Summary: Louise can't fit together the pieces of every broken heart, nor can she solve every mystery. But she can love her Lord Pent, and she shall, until the end of time.

A/N: I always loved Pent and Louise. They're a different kind of couple for me. With most heterosexual couples, I find myself identifying more easily with the man than the woman. But in this case, I see it more through Louise's perspective. I have no idea why Louise and Pent romance is easier when I write from Louise's point of view. Maybe it's her undying devotion to her Lord… I always enjoyed that about her.

**Edits as of 18/4/2011**

Fixed the transition between morning and afternoon

Edited some wording

Changed "Thank Pharae" to "Thank Elimine" – I was using Marcus's phrasing wrong. I remember him using "By Pherae" as an expletive, so I got a bit mixed up.

Added an additional character cameo

Altered ending

**Bonus features added to my LJ:**

Author commentary, Edition 1, all other chapters so that in-depth critique can be given more than once, and comment responses. Also, you get to interact with me more there, so it's a handy bonus.

* * *

Two

Pieces of the Heart

_The world could fall apart  
But you're my heart, my dear  
I will sing this song  
'Til we are gone, my dear_

The morning immediately following the battle, Louise threw up.

It was the color of the fluid in the chamber pot that really made her recent suspicions become valid. It had been easy enough to shrug off an increased appetite and decreased energy levels—it wasn't much, really, and she had been traveling a lot recently. As for her period, well, she assumed it was just the stress of the road. It wasn't like this was the first time she had missed a period. Once before she had figured she might be pregnant, when in truth her period had just not come that month. So of course she was hesitant in hoping.

But this...

She left the pot in the corner, grateful for Pent choosing to stay in the infirmary. She then began to make her bed, humming an old Ertrurian lullaby. To the casual observer, Lady Reglay seemed calm and content. In truth, she felt like she had bugs inside her skin. Fate could be so cruel. For years she had left offerings in Saint Elimine's temples, praying for one thing and one thing only: to bear the child of her true love and husband, Lord Pent. How her prayers went unanswered, she couldn't say. Louise was not in a dead marriage. Whatever moments Pent could spare were spent with Louise, and for the first year of their marriage, they could hardly keep away from each other. Yet with each month that went by, Louise found herself staring at her linens in dismay.

Blood. No baby.

It wasn't like Pent needed an heir; though he was a Count, the laws of Ertruria allowed him to choose an heir from another family if he had no worthy biological heirs. And as far as the Mage General position went, well, that was given to the highest qualifying candidate. No, the worst part was the gossip that ran through the Ertrurian courts.

"The wife's sterile, she is. That's what Count Reglay gets for marrying a warrior woman and not a proper one."

"No, no, Pent's impotent. Poor Louise, she could have married just about anyone else but no, she ended up with a man who can't perform!"

"Can't perform? More like won't! Pent's too close to that pretty young apprentice of his. Poor Louise indeed. I'd go mad if I had to marry a dandy."

"It's likely he married her for only status. Watch him have a dozen other heirs all from different women. I pity Louise's parents; they could have gotten better from such a pretty daughter."

All these implications and more were just proof that women of politics were nothing more than clucking hens who never sought the truth. Louise knew better than to believe them. Yet... Somewhere deep inside she had her doubts about her ability to bear children. Pent couldn't be the problem, she told herself. Not her Lord Pent. He was perfect in every way. Yet... Perhaps he had deserved a wife that could give him a family.

For years she had thought this. And then came this morning, and the chamber pot in the corner proved that her prayers had come true. Yet, despite the fulfillment of years of prayer and hope and wishing, she could not be happy. This was not what she wanted. What she wanted was to tell Pent the instant she knew. What she wanted was for him to feel the joy of this new knowledge, and to not see it as a burden. But here, with so many dying, Pent could not know. No one could know, for fear of Pent discovering it. For if he were to find out, he would order her to leave. She could not disobey her Lord Pent, but she could also not let him go unprotected. After last night, her convictions were only strengthened. Lord Pent would die without her there, watching over him.

And without her beloved, what purpose was there in living?

Without a thought to her rank, Louise scooped up the chamber pot and strode to the courtyard, emptying it behind a bush without a moment's hesitation. Then, she turned and strode off. Pent would learn about his unborn child after this war. For now, she could not worry him. She would eat breakfast, then see if she could see him in the infirmary. It was likely that he would need company after a night of hard work.

* * *

Breakfast went well enough, though she felt as if she was going to chuck it right back up. As luck would have it, she found herself sitting right next to Rebecca, who chatted constantly about her simple problems. "Sir Lowen is so nice, but I wonder if I'm good enough for him." She sighed. "I'm just a country girl, and he's a knight. Besides, I think he has eyes for Priscilla. _Everyone_ does..."

"Pent doesn't," Louise pointed out.

"Well, that's because he has you!" Rebecca put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her fist, slouching. "You and her are in the same league. Pent doesn't need Priscilla when he has a woman that's just as good as she is."

Louise would have inquired further, but she decided it was best to let the teenager whine. It wouldn't do any harm, would it? Besides, it was good practice for her own future children. Speaking of future children, she had yet to meet with the father-to-be and ensure that he was doing all right. Saying a polite farewell to Rebecca, Louise headed off through the many corridors leading to the infirmary.

According to the servants in Castle Ostia, Lord Pent was up to his eyeballs in work. It wasn't only him, either; the majority of Ostia's clergy was there,. Things could go faster, but Lord Hector had ordered to conserve any and all healing energies should Nergal send more troops. And so, the infirm were treated the old-fashioned way. After eating breakfast, Louise decided to go and lend a hand where needed. She could change bandages and empty bed-pans, couldn't she?

However, the cleric at the door of the infirmary took one look at Louise and shooed her away. "We've enough hands here. It's crowded enough."

"But certainly I could assist my husband—"

"Mother Penelope has asked for no more volunteers, and limited visitors. You can return for a visit at high noon, but only the Ostian clergy and its selected guests may enter otherwise."

Louise opened her mouth, then snapped it shut and whirled away. Only her lady-like grace kept her from grunting and storming off. Instead, she went as calmly as she came, though behind violet eyes there was a storm of rage. Not even allowed in to see Pent and ask him herself? Who did that cleric think she was?

These thoughts faded when Louise realized that their next move had been planned. No orders came from Lords Hector or Eliwood, which was odd. Usually there were orders to rest or to move about or... something. Then, suddenly, there was concern. Eliwood hadn't been well as of late. Her outrage forgotten, Louise set off to find Eliwood, using the directions from servants to find his likely location. Her first guess was Ostia's War Room.

They weren't in the War Room, though an Ostian knight passed through and informed her that they would likely be in Uther's study. She thanked him, and had her servant-guide lead her there. It was a long walk through stone halls that appeared almost identical until they finally reached a flight of winding stairs. It was here that Louise bade her farewells to her guide.

Then, the climb.

Though her feet did not thank her for it, it was not a climb made in vain. In fact, she heard voices before the door even came into sight. The shouts were unmistakable; Lord Hector and Lady Lyndis were at each other's throats, arguing over... Well, Louise wasn't sure if even _they_ knew. Though, since it was a common occurrence, nothing stopped Louise from knocking on the wooden door.

Silence. Then, "Get the door, you big oaf!" Four seconds later, Hector was opening the door, and staring down into Louise's calm, motherly face.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked politely.

Hector glanced over at Lyn, who shrugged. Then his eyes were back on her, and he stepped back from the door, gesturing inside. "Come right in."

"Thank you." She stepped through the door, nodding in greeting to Lyn, who returned the nod but kept her eyes on Hector.

Something was going on, and Louise wasn't sure what it was, but as soon as she was inside, Hector said, "See, I told you I invited others besides you. I'm pretty sure they'll be here soon, so will you stop giving me this?"

Lyn crossed her arms and huffed. "For all I know, this could have just been lucky. Louise," Lyn whirled to face Louise, her glare threatening, "did Hector send a servant to tell you to come all the way up here for a meeting?"

Louise didn't catch Hector's pleading glance, and thus didn't see the harm in telling the truth. "No. I came here looking for Lord Eliwood."

"Aha!" She was back to Hector now. "You men are all the same—disgusting, vile, crude—"

Another knock. This time, Hector bolted to the door and opened it with a grin. Behind the wood, though, was Saria, and she wasn't smiling. Her brown hair fell around her face in messy clumps, and the strange flush on her face was obviously caused by stress. She nodded to Hector, then to Lyn, though she bowed to Louise. "Countess," she muttered, then stepped into the room. Not far behind her was Marcus and a rather haggard Lord Eliwood. Marcus bowed to each noble, ending with a curt glare to Saria for lack of manners. Eliwood simply strode in and sat on one of the chairs along the wall, intent on listening but not cheerful about it.

Before the meeting commenced, Hector shot a gloating smirk to Lyn, then glanced to Marcus. "Where's Oswin?" Louise swore she heard a note of bitterness when Hector said the knight's name, but she dismissed it as her imagination.

"Sir Oswin was detained," Marcus said. "With the recent duties, he has been asked to fill in for a commander, and while he was loathe to miss the meeting, he found that, should we be attacked again, he would be down there to help. He sends his regards, my Lord."

Hector, now pulling up chairs into a circle for each person in the room, nodded. "I guess, then, we'll start without him. Though I did hope to have a report from him..."

"Was Pent supposed to be here?" Lyn's eyes were on Louise, who was now settling into a chair offered by Hector. Louise was going to answer, but Hector beat her to the chase.

"No," the Lord said. "However, Pent knows that he is more than welcome in any of our strategy meetings. I'm not sure if Lady Louise knew that, but I'm extending the courtesy to her." Finally, everyone was seated in a circle and Hector took his own seat, sighing as he leaned back. How strange and small he looked when not in his armor! Louise almost giggled at the difference, but remembered her manners before even cracking a smile.

A nod from Hector to Saria was the cue to start the meeting. Brushing back a lock of hair, Saria glanced at each member in the circle before speaking. "As you know, our losses have been great." She croaked the words. So the rumors were true: she _had_ screamed her throat raw. "Last night, we lost one member of our army to Nergal's morphs. This may not seem like much, but when one considers how valuable he was to us, and how we lost him, it seems like a thousand soldiers. And also, I need not mention the size of our army..."

The room nodded in agreement; their numbers were thin, _too_ thin. Saria paused for a drink before continuing. "How long can our army go on like this? Losing good men left and right... We can't win wars with only a few warriors. And Raven was one of our best—all of us have benefited from his strength, and he and Lucius together... I thought they'd be unstoppable. They usually are..."

She hesitated, and Louise could sense the shame on the young tactician's shoulders. But no one interrupted her, and Saria soon found words again. "We need to strike back while we're all still alive. Too many more incidents like this, and I'll be dead weight, because there won't be an army to command. I say, we go tonight. The sooner, the better." The tactician sat down. The only sign of acknowledgement was a nod from Hector indicating that he had heard.

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sound of Saria drinking water and Eliwood's heavy breathing. Then Marcus raised his hand, and Hector gestured to him. "Now that we've had a moment to collect our thoughts." The Knight stood, his knees audibly snapping from the exertion. Yet no pain showed on his face, and Louise wondered if this man had a wife, and if he did, how lucky she was to have such a strong man as a husband.

"Saria, you are a brilliant young woman, and up until now, I've learned to swallow all of my concerns about each and every one of your crazy ideas." The praise sounded harsh, and no one was surprised to hear what followed. "But this... This I cannot allow. Especially with the way you've been acting. Saria, you've been acting like this is all your fault and as if you have to redeem your honor with a quick blow. But you haven't lost honor; you had no idea that Raven would be stuck there, and you had no idea the attack was coming. Your plans didn't kill Raven—Nergal's did. So please, Saria. Stop acting like this needs to be settled in an instant. Our army's exhausted—you're exhausted—we're all exhausted. Thank Elimine that Hector gives orders, because if you try to push us now, we'll all die, and then you'll really be able to blame yourself."

The General then sat down, grunting a bit from the pains of age. Louise realized the hesitation before Marcus took up the conversation—he was gathering thoughts, so that when he spoke, he would say the right thing. Saria, however, did not have such inhibitions.

"Exhausted? Marcus, if we don't act now, we won't have the luxury of exhaustion! We're more than ready! This army's run on worse, and I know I can do this! I know—!"

"Saria, enough."

Hector placed a hand on Saria's shoulder, forcing her to be quiet. She didn't dare argue, and even the glare on her face vanished and was replaced with a look of embarrassment and shame. Louise thought she looked like a child who knew she was about to receive the lecture of her life. Hector, though, remained calm as he spoke.

"Saria, remember when you told me that my temper was going to get me in trouble one day? I'm returning the favor now. Your temper is clouding your judgment."

"You don't understand," she said softly.

Hector shook his head. "No, I'm pretty sure you're the one who doesn't understand. You're acting like you're the only one this affected, and, frankly, it's every bit as bad for us as it is annoying. Just take a moment and think: this is my home. I've known some of the dead and dying since I was a child. And my people are scared out of their minds. And I'm not sure if it's even safe yet. I won't have you treating this entire thing like a game you just lost, and if you insist on acting like this, I don't care what you've proven of yourself in the past. I won't take you any farther."

So soft that he almost went unheard, Eliwood spoke. "Nergal will leave Ostia alone if we leave."

Despite his friend's condition, Hector did not hesitate in looking up and glaring. "But will my people forgive me? Will I forgive myself? And we are nowhere near prepared, not to mention we're all dead on our feet. Neither you nor Saria got any sleep last night, Eliwood, and we all know you're not eating." Eliwood looked up and paled, but Hector didn't give him a second to speak. "Yeah, we know, and yeah, we care. We care for you, Eliwood. All of us. Saria and Marcus and Lyn and Lowen and I—we've been out of our minds trying to keep you from starving yourself."

Something in the way Lyn, Marcus, and Saria all glared at Hector suggested to Louise that Hector was not supposed to let that slip. Tension rose. Fortunately, Louise knew exactly what to do in a situation like this. She raised a hand, then spoke clearly, "If it makes any difference, I doubt we could leave Ostia until we have a plan of action, and ample supplies. Lord Hector, I would suggest placing Saria in charge of ensuring that everything is prepared for battle before we head out, at least what is important to the war. I know for a fact that we have issues with weaponry, and there is no finer selection than the one seen in Ostia's markets."

The aversion worked to perfection. All eyes were on her (except Eliwood's—his were on the ground), and Hector regained control of the meeting. Clearing his throat, he sprung off her statement. "Yes, that sounds excellent. Saria, consult with Merlinus to go over our inventory. Once that is done, send a missive to me; I'd be willing to use Ostian funds to fuel our efforts. The rest of you," he even nodded to Louise, to her surprise, "we'll all meet again to discuss plans for the invasion. Also, if there are no objections," he looked pointedly at Lyn, "I'll send word to Badon and ask Fargus if he'd be willing to provide transportation for us once more."

"I'm not going to pitch a fit like last time, if that's what you're implying," Lyn snapped.

Rather than respond, Hector only grinned. "That settles it then. Everyone, dismissed."

And with that, Louise left her first-ever war meeting feeling rather giddy, especially since she had been invited back. Her! Not her husband, her! But the icing on the cake was when Saria stopped her from leaving too soon and touched her shoulder.

"Great save there, Countess," she said softly. "You make a good addition to the planning team."

"Thank you for the compliment," the archer replied, glowing with pride.

The tactician smiled, then said, "You really don't know how much good you've done with that. I was afraid Hector would start yelling at Eliwood and then Lyn would start yelling at Hector and I would start yelling and Eliwood and Marcus…" She trailed off, then gave Louise the strangest, most forlorn look. "You really are a court-bred lady aren't you?"

This shocked Louise to the point where she stammered for a few seconds. Sure, she expected it from Rebecca, but from Saria? She caught herself quickly with a bout of lady-like laughter. "Oh, it's not really my sort of thing. I'm an archer, dear, not a proper wife, as any Ertrurian lady would be happy to tell you."

Saria shook her head. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Countess. His Highborn is lucky to have you. Not only can you string a bow to defend him, but you can appear beside him with such grace that…" She sighed. "It's nothing important. Nevermind." With that, the tactician was gone, green robes billowing around her with each hasty stride.

Louise remained where she was, trying to make sense of the conversation. Eventually, though, she gave up and settled on the compliments. Making sense of addled tacticians wasn't her specialty. However, talking to Saria did put her in line to speak with another guest who was late to leave the meeting.

"Lord Eliwood, are you going to sit up here all day?"

Eliwood hadn't budged, and didn't even respond to Louise's question. Sighing, the blond woman crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked at it, but didn't react. Frowning, Louise took the chair closest to him and kept his hand on her shoulder. "Eliwood, do you need to talk about it?"

The young lord shook his head, then removed her hand from his shoulder and walked out, leaving Louise alone in Uther's study. She stared into silence for a few minutes before standing and exiting the room herself. She told herself, as she walked down the stairs, that she would try to put it out of her mind. But despite her hardest efforts, she kept seeing Eliwood on the ground, crying out in pain as he clutched Ninian's lifeless corpse to his chest.

She could never help him, and it tore her heart into pieces. But such was life, and eventually, she would have to move on. She rubbed one hand over her stomach, forgetting the discomfort of morning and just thinking of the day when she would finally see the child now blooming within her. Life will always continue... And Louise, ever the optimist, believed it could only get better from here.


	3. Sunshine and Ants

Inside the Hourglass

**Chapter Summary**

Character: Erk

Pairings: Mentions of Pent/Louise

Warnings: None

Summary: Louise won't let Erk study, so she forces him to go along with Matthew on one of his information sessions. Erk being Erk and Matthew being Matthew, chaos ensues.

A/N: This came out of nowhere. I hope you enjoy it! It's very short, but I love it. Especially Matthew—I don't know why I don't write for him more. I guess I just like Legault more.

Thank you very much for the critique, Asherien! I will go through and attempt to fix the Louise chapter, and shall update it accordingly when it is complete. Of course I'm using the critique; I know there are a lot of people who say they will and who will end up whining or ignoring the critique when they get it. I, personally, know these are first drafts (usually) and that hacking and slashing will be necessary to make anything better. So any help I can get is really, really great for me. "Pherae", though. I always spell that wrong...

* * *

**Three**  
Sunshine and Ants

_It's the perfect day,  
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon  
I could stay, forever as I am  
On this perfect day  
_

High in the mountains, the Ostian landscape seems to be as uninhabitable as the mountains of Bern, but a second look would render this observation false. Ostia has a convenient location close to a river, and while a downstream waterfall makes boating impossible, the river provides water for agriculture, and fish for net, line, or trap fishing. Numerous other native fauna live along the water's edge. The meat of these fauna is edible, while the pelts make great lining for boots and gloves during cold Ostian winters...

"Erk!"

The purple-haired sage jumped ten feet in the air, nearly swallowing his tongue in the process. He hadn't noticed that Lady Louise was standing right in front of him until she had yelled and slammed her hand down on his book. His ears colored, and he glanced up at her face. Much to his relief, she wasn't too angry—though annoyance from Louise would be undesirable.

"Y-yes, Lady Louise?" he said, wishing his mouth wasn't so dry.

Louise gestured at the sky outside. "It's suck a lovely day outside, Erk," she said, her tone heavy on the implications. "You really want to spend your day in here, reading a book about a place that you could explore instead?"

Erk's flush deepened, and he glanced down at the book. "Yes... Yes, I would, Lady Louise."

Suddenly, the book was gone from his hands and tucked under Lady Louise's arm. "I think you should reconsider. Matthew's going out soon. I think you should go with him."

Erk gave her a pleading look. "W-well if it's only a suggestion—"

"It isn't. By 'I think' I mean 'you will'." Louise wore one of her modest smiles, though Erk saw it as the smirk of a demon. "Now, Matthew should be at the front courtyard soon. Hurry to meet him, Erk. If you miss him and I catch you back in Ostia's library, I'll be having you practice with the knights!" And with that, the archer turned on her heel and trotted off, no doubt intending on eating up every second of Pent's lunch break.

The whole ordeal was just another example of why Erk missed his real mentor. Since Pent was so busy, Louise had decided to ensure that Erk didn't deny food and water for studying purposes. She usually worried as it was, but Pent was always the one interacting with Erk, and enticing him with magic lessons. With Louise, there were no rewards, just punishments—punishments that were enough to make him fear everything she said.

So, of course he stood and scurried off to get to the front courtyard. Knight training over the past three days had been intense, as even the seasoned knights were saying. Many of the members of the party were teaching new techniques. Canas taught healers and knights alike the benefit of certain herbs, and how to treat wounds without magic. Saria gave the tacticians of Ostia all sorts of details about the Bernese army. Isadora gathered the ladies of the house for basic defensive training, with Marcus and Lowen as her assistants. To Ostian arena combatants, Karel demonstrated how to destroy any enemy that crossed one's path in a true Karel fashion. Even the grieving Lucius had found something to do: the acolytes of Elimine within the city would receive tutoring in light magic from him.

Erk, however, did not seek out a use. Working was all he had done as of late, and spending some time in Ostia studying sounded divine. Unfortunately, Louise didn't agree. Perhaps it was maternal paranoia that caused her to be completely insane; a likely situation, Erk supposed. Regardless, he couldn't study a thing, no matter how much he tried. How that woman pestered him to do things that he did not want to do!

True to her guess, Matthew was in the front courtyard, just about ready to leave into Castleton. Erk hesitated, wondering if he could lie to Louise and say that he had missed Matthew, but then the images of the knights sweating in their heavy armor flashed through his head. She'd punish him anyway, wouldn't she? Sighing, Erk bolted from the shade and waved his arm in an attempt to get the thief's attention.

"Matthew! Oy, Matthew! Wait up!"

Sure enough, the thief stopped and glanced behind him, arcing a brow at the purple-haired mage. "Well, if it ain't Erk. And here I thought you'd be allergic to sunlight." His thick commoner's accent was hard for Erk to follow, but Matthew didn't seem to care. "What're you doing out here?"

Erk didn't reply for a while; running was not his forte, and he had to put his hands on his knees to keep himself from falling over. Finally, he stopped gasping for breath and glanced up at Matthew. "L-Lady Louise said I had to get out of the house, and-"

"She suggested you come with me," Matthew finished. Then he smiled. "How nice of her. I've been needing a strapping young lad such as yourself. Here," Matthew tossed Erk the pack, which caught him off guard and caused the mage to fall over, "carry this."

Struggling back to his feet was hard enough, but Matthew decided to turn and keep walking. So by the time Erk was on his feet, he had to run after Matthew all over again. And the thief didn't slow his pace at all, so the mage had no time to catch his breath.

Even though only a few minutes had passed, Erk was already wondering how bad knight training could be compared to a day of this.

* * *

"So what exactly are we looking for?"

How long had passed—an hour, maybe slightly more? Matthew hadn't done much interesting; he had strode through Castleton and straight to the walls, but stopped there, scouring the land for something that eluded Erk. Matthew hadn't spoken much. Therefore, Erk was left sitting on a grassy knoll and watching Matthew pace back and forth and examine the grass and leaves.

More silence from the thief. Erk crossed his arms and huffed. "You know, I could be inside Ostia, reading a lovely book about the native plants and animals here. But no. I had to come with you and watch you stare at rocks. I'm _so_ glad I came."

"Yeah," Matthew snapped, clipping off the branch of a bush with a swipe of his knife. "After all, you get to experience the Ostian Mountain Ants first-hand."

Erk froze. "M-m-m-mountain ants?" Then, suddenly, he felt an itch in his sleeve, and promptly pulled back the fabric. Sure enough, several large black ants were scurrying around on the pale white flesh of his upper arm. The mage let out a piercing shriek and began to flail about, trying to get the ants off of him. The Ant Dance, as many native Ostians called it, brought several on-lookers, laughing as Erk spouted expletives and nonsense syllables.

"Foreigners never learn," Matthew said, leaning against the stone wall of Ostia and grinning. Watching the prissy mage scream like a girl was well worth losing an hour's work. Certainly Lord Hector would see it the same way.

* * *

After that incident, Erk suddenly knew where his place was, and didn't question a word that Matthew said. He came close to whining once or twice, but Matthew only had to bring up mentions of ants to get it to stop. Finally, the sun was starting to set, and Matthew said goodbye to his last witness. Then, much to the mage's surprise, the thief threw an arm around Erk's shoulders and gave him a noogie.

"Good job, kiddo," he said. "I think you got what it takes to be a proper vassal. Maybe with a lick more training, you'd be perfect for serving some Ertrurian duke." Erk scowled, which caused Matthew to burst into full-bellied laughter. "Oh, you're such a trip! Here, lemme get you a treat for being a good boy before we head in."

The mage paled. "I-It doesn't involve ants, does it?"

This somehow made the thief laugh harder. "Aw, hell, naw. You think we _eat _the damned ants here? Naw, that's just a silly story we tell to kids like you to get 'em to squirm." Noticing Erk's sudden flush of embarrassment, Matthew elbowed the boy in the ribs. "Buck up, kid, you'll love this."

Matthew vanished for a second, leaving Erk alone in the crowded courtyard. But before Erk could start panicking, Matthew reappeared, clutching two cones of colored snow and grinning. He handed one to Erk, then took a bite from the snowball and swallowed. "No worries, it's clean. Fresh from the peaks of this here mountain."

Tentatively, Erk licked the ball of snow. He didn't quite trust it, but Matthew was grinning at him expectantly. Swallowing his fear, Erk took a bite. The first thing he noticed was that it was cold, and caused his teeth to ache. But then, the flavor exploded on his tongue—sweet but also sour.

"They're flavored with cherries from Kathelet," Matthew explained as they continued their walk back to the castle. "What you do is you take a ball of fresh, undisturbed snow and coat it with juice from a fruit. There's grape and plum, too, but cherry has always been my favorite."

"It's delicious!" Erk exclaimed, then continued biting into it with fervor.

Matthew grinned. "Why thank you—hey, wait! Slow down, you'll get a—!"

Too late. The mage was already holding his head and groaning. Matthew took the paper holder for the snowball and crumpled it up, then placed a hand on Erk's shoulder. "See, you should always take things slowly," he chuckled. "Though I'm surprised you liked it so much." He took a bite of his own flavored snowball and tousled Erk's hair. "See, there's a secret ingredient I forgot to mention..."

Erk glanced up at Matthew, head still throbbing from brain freeze. "What would that be?"

Matthew paused for dramatic effect, then smirked. "Ostian Mountain Ants."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"I'll kill you for that!"

Suddenly, civilians were running screaming as bolts of lightning zapped through the courtyard. The source came from an enraged purple-haired mage, who was trying desperately to end the life of the laughing thief that led him all the way back to Ostia's castle courtyard.


End file.
